Sally Molini

Dwindling at the Taj Mahal

I’m a slow-motion crumble,
a sinking cloud,

every breath
a small drop in elevation,

a passing float
among the jasper buds

and chalcedony leaves.
Some unseen open depth

is already here,
the senses not so good

at sensing beyond themselves.
Mausoleum and iwan’s

white marble nimbus
cloud the eye, the future

never enough, festival
​pastries raisined with flies.




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Sally Molini co-edits Cerise Press (www.cerisepress.com). Her work has appeared in Gargoyle, American Letters & Commentary, Beloit Poetry Journal, 5AM, Denver Quarterly, among others. She lives in Nebraska.